With Mine Eyes
by laced-with-fire
Summary: Athos is free from Milady but nothing ever runs smoothly for long; the arrival of a woman in Paris sets events and plots into motion that could catch all of the Musketeers in a web of hatred. Shamelessly Athos centric. Rated M just in case for later events. Sadly the Musketeers aren't mine, just borrowing and then I'll put them back :-)
1. Chapter 1

**Well here we are, new story, slightly AU with the start of series two but there we go. Hope you like.**

_In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,_

_For they in thee a thousand errors note,_

_But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,_

_Who in despite the view is pleased to dote._

_ William Shakespeare_

Captain Treville sat at his desk frowning at the report he held in his hands, he hadn't planned for this and of all days to receive such a report, this was not a good one. Quickly he thought through the duties he had assigned to his musketeers today and wondered who he could trust to carry out what now needed to be done. As if on cue he heard a familiar laugh from the courtyard; Porthos if he was not much mistaken. He sighed and dropped the report back on his desk before making his way out onto the balcony.

They were there, the three inseparables, recently become four with d'Artagnan's commission. He did not announce himself immediately but stood watching them, contemplating. They were always to be found together and if not then they were looking for each other. He had often likened them in his mind to a pack of hounds; loyal to their pack and always able to find each other come hell or high water. It was not uncommon for soldiers to form strong bonds but these four were stronger than most. He had known other Captains who would have separated such soldiers; fearing the effect it would have if one were wounded or killed but he could not condone such a thing, not with these four. As he watched them, Aramis smiling brightly as he poked fun at d'Artagnan, Porthos clapping the boy on the shoulder and Athos smiling wryly as he lounged against the stairs, Treville made a decision.

"You four; my office, now." He knew his irritation was apparent in his voice and saw the raised eyebrows as he turned away. A moment later he heard their footsteps on the stairs as they obeyed without question. They filed in, Athos leading them, the others following in his wake. They stood silent and still, waiting patiently. "I've had a report of trouble along the road into the city; a small group of men in the woods that border the road. There is someone travelling along that road today who may need protection and I can only spare two of you; Athos and Porthos you're going."

"Who are we protecting?" Athos had raised an eyebrow in question.

"Her name is Madame Ardoin; she'll be travelling with a man and another woman; they are due to arrive on the road today. Get yourselves out there and watch for them; when you get them to Paris then bring them here."

"To the garrison?" Porthos' confusion was evident.

"That's what I said." Treville fixed the soldier with a glare. "There is one more thing you need to know..." He was cut off as the door to the office flew open and a messenger fell into the office closely followed by an apologetic looking musketeer.

"Captain Treville, the King demands your presence immediately." Treville sighed and picked up his hat and cloak.

"Aramis, d'Artagnan with me." He hurried out of the room closely followed by the musketeers he had summoned, leaving Athos and Porthos behind. They looked at the door before turning to each other.

"Well so much for something we needed to know." Porthos glanced back at the door.

"I imagine we'll find out soon enough." Athos' face betrayed nothing.

"Best get going then; don't want to upset him anymore." Without another word they placed their hats on their heads and left the room.

Treville stood before the King; although he was outwardly calm Aramis and d'Artagnan could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders. They knew their Captain was fretting although they could not fathom why. As per usual the King prattled on, not realising or caring that something bothered his loyal musketeer.

"...and when she arrives I want to meet her; I'm quite fascinated."

"Of course, you're Majesty."

"Very well, Treville you can go." The King turned away and the musketeers and their Captain bowed low before leaving. Aramis and d'Artagnan followed him, neither daring to speak and risk the wrath they could see simmering just below the surface. They both tensed as he rounded a corner only to collide with a woman coming the other way, sending the pile of linen in her arms to the floor where it collapsed in untidy folds. It was only when Treville stepped away, mumbling an apology that they saw that he had collided with Constance.

"It's alright, Captain, I wasn't looking where I was going either." She knelt and began to gather up the pile of fabric. Out of chivalry, Treville knelt to help, but his musketeers could see that he was itching to get away.

"You go on, Captain; I'll help Madame Bonacieux." D'Artagnan stepped forwards and the Captain straightened, nodding.

"Don't be too long." He strode off along the corridor and d'Artagnan knelt beside Constance, studiously ignoring the smile on Aramis' face as he followed the Captain.

"Is he alright?" Constance shook out a piece of linen and began to refold it.

"Not sure, he's been in an odd mood all day."

"He looked worried." Her brow creased in concern.

"He has a lot to worry about." D'Artagnan picked up the now neatly folded pile of linen and stood, offering a hand to Constance. She took it and rose to her feet before taking the linen from his hands.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He paused, gazing at her for a moment. "How are you enjoying the life of a lady in waiting?"

"Well I don't get to go home much, which means I don't really see my husband." She watched as his face dropped and laughed. "But that does mean I get to see you." He grinned at her, once more giving thanks as he had many times over the last few months that Constance had come to work at the palace and that they had once again been able to rekindle their love; albeit more carefully than last time. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one else was around, d'Artagnan leant forwards and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before taking his leave and moving hastily down the corridor after Treville and Aramis.

Athos and Porthos cantered along the road making their way to the woods that Treville had spoken of. They slowed when they reached the right stretch of road; walking their horses slowly while watching the trees carefully for any sign of the bandits.

"So who do you reckon she is?" Porthos' eyes flicked back and forth as he spoke.

"It doesn't matter; Treville has ordered us to protect her. If he wants us to find out who she is then he'll tell us." Athos sounded bored.

"Would it kill you to be curious?" Porthos shook his head.

"There's a saying about curiosity." Porthos could swear he heard a note of amusement under the boredom, something that happened more often now that he was free of Milady. He was about to retort when the crack of a gunshot sounded on the road ahead of them. As they spurred their horses along the road, both feared that they may have failed in their mission before it had even begun.

As they rode, Athos heard one of the most terrible noises in the world; a horses' scream, mingled with that of a woman. They rounded the bend in the road at a gallop, their horses barely keeping their footing. Athos drew his pistol, barely keeping his grip on his horses' reins as he hauled it to a stop. He looked at the scene before him and counted five men all brandishing one form of weapon or another. Two horses milled around nervously and he could see the body of a man not far away, another horse spun nervously, the woman on its' back clutching on as best she could. He fired his pistol and heard Porthos do the same; two of the men fell soundlessly. One turned and fired at him and Athos felt the shot fly past his head. Porthos leapt from his horse, drawing his sword and Athos followed suit.

"Eleanor." He heard the woman call out and another shot rang through the air, a second later the woman's horse screamed and fell in a tangle of limbs, taking her with it.

One man ran at Porthos and Athos heard a woman's scream as another man ran at him. He parried a thrust from the knife in the man's hand and flicked the point of his sword round, driving it through his opponents' chest. He paused and looked around, Porthos had just dispatched his opponent and by Athos' reckoning that left one more. He heard a strangled cry and turned; the last man knelt on the floor, straddling another woman. One hand was wrapped about her neck, in his other hand he held a knife, the point of the blade pressing into the hollow of her throat. He looked up, his eyes desperate as the two musketeers advanced on him.

"Don't come any closer." He glared at them and tightened his grip on the girl, she grasped at his wrist as she fought for breath, her nails leaving bloody lines across his skin.

"Jesus, he's killing her." Athos heard Porthos' voice low behind him and knew his friend was right.

"Your friends are dead, if you kill this woman now in cold blood it will not save you." Athos took a small step closer, halting when the man pressed the knife against the girls' throat, drawing a drop of blood that shone like a ruby against her fair skin. She cried out and her feet kicked wildly, heels digging into the soft earth.

"Won't make much difference then will it?" Desperation verging on madness showed in his eyes and the musketeers coiled like springs as they realised what he intended. At that moment the girl gave a cry and with some deep reserve of desperate strength managed to push his hand away, knocking the knife to the side. Athos saw Porthos move, running faster than any man of his size should and barrelling into the man, knocking him away from the girl. They rolled across the floor and Athos ran towards the woman; she had rolled onto her side, one hand at her throat as she drew in shuddering breaths. As he reached her, Athos saw Porthos rise to his feet, leaving the man in a bleeding heap on the dirt road.

"Are you alright, Madame?" Athos reached out to help the woman sit up, swiftly pulling his hand back when she flinched from his touch as though burned. Her head turned towards his voice but she did not look at him. She said nothing, but her head turned again as Porthos approached, his eyes fixed on the girl, a frown on his face as he watched her carefully.

"Athos." Porthos' voice was quiet and he nodded at the girl, frowning. Athos looked up at Porthos then back at the woman in front of him; her green eyes did not focus on anything, but her head turned at sounds. It took him only a moment to realise what Porthos had already seen. This woman was blind.

**Well there we go, hope you like.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, here's the next chapter. Thank you to Merick, Target Zero and cdsnow for the reviews, much love for those :-)**

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><p>Athos looked at the girl again and took a breath, uncertain of how to reassure her. Porthos saw his hesitation and stepped forwards quickly, crouching in front of the girl. When he spoke his voice was a quiet rumble, as though he were soothing a skittish horse.<p>

"It's alright, we're King's musketeers." Carefully he reached out and took the girls' hand, lifting it to his shoulder; Athos watched as her fingers traced over the carefully tooled leather of his pauldron. Her head turned towards Athos and she reached out her hand towards him, her expression guarded. Athos glanced at Porthos and saw the big man nod, deciding not to question his friend; he reached forwards and gently grasped her fingers, lifting her hand and placing it carefully on his shoulder. Once she had felt the fleur-de-lis she seemed calmer and Athos took her hand once more, helping her to her feet.

"Thank you for your help, gentlemen. It's good that you came when you did." She shook her head, dislodging the lock of fiery red hair that had fallen across her face.

"A report was received of trouble on the road, we were sent to ensure that it stopped." Athos paused as the girl began to turn her head from side to side as though trying to locate something.

"Charlotte? Raoul?" The girl called out the names and when she received no answer turned back towards the musketeers.

"I had two others with me; a girl and a young man. Please, are they here?" Porthos moved over to where the horse that had been shot lay. The girl lay under it, her chest crushed and her eyes unseeing. He brushed his fingers down her face, gently closing her eyes and looked around; there was a boy not far away, he was sprawled face down and his clothing suggested that he was not one of the bandits. Carefully Porthos rolled him over and saw instantly that there was no help for him; a blade to the throat had seen to that. Sighing, he rose to his feet and made his way back to where the girl stood with Athos.

"I'm sorry; they didn't make it."

"Oh no." Her breath hitched and Athos caught her arm as she swayed on her feet, leaning heavily on him.

"We will see to it that they are buried." Athos' voice was as steady and sure as his grip on her arm. "But for now, I must ask your name."

"E...Eleanor Ardoin." Her voice shook as she answered and Porthos saw tears spill over to fall like crystal drops down her cheeks. After a moment she seemed to shake herself and drew in a few harsh breaths, scrubbing her tears away with the back of her hand. A few more breaths later and she seemed to have composed herself with what could only be an iron self control and when she spoke her voice was steady. "If I might prevail upon you to find my horse, Monsieurs'; she has a rope tied to her bridle."

"I see her." Porthos turned and moved across the clearing to where an elegant chestnut mare stood, gazing back at him, the dappled sunlight shining on a smooth coat that was almost the same fiery red as her mistress' hair. Carefully he approached her and she regarded him warily with liquid eyes. "S'alright, sweetheart, I'm not gonna hurt you." Her ears twitched as she heard his soft rumble and the horse did not move as he took hold of her bridle, lifting the trailing rope before turning her back across the clearing.

As the big musketeer turned to retrieve the horse, Eleanor had turned to Athos who's hand remained on her arm.

"It strikes me Monsieur that you have not yet introduced yourselves."

"My apologies, Madame Ardoin, it was remiss of us. I am Athos of the Kings' Musketeers."

"And your friend?"

"Porthos, also of the Kings' Musketeers." She inclined her head, a small smile ghosting over her features.

As Porthos approached them the horse tossed her head and snorted. Eleanor's head turned and she stretched out a hand, her fingers finding and gently caressing the velvety muzzle. Almost immediately the horse calmed and Porthos smiled at the clear bond between the pair.

"Do you need assistance, Madame?" He felt her fingers brush his as she stepped away from Athos and took the reins.

"Not to mount, thank you, but she will need to follow one of your horses if you would be so kind as to lead her once I am mounted." She stepped alongside the mare and ran one hand over the chestnut neck. Her fingers pressed against a point on the silken fur and both musketeers looked on in amazement as the mare sank gracefully to her knees, settling on the ground. Eleanor settled herself in the saddle with smooth, practiced motions and at a gentle nudge from her heels the mare rose once more to her feet. Shaking off their surprise at what they had just seen, Athos and Porthos quickly hurried to retrieve their own horses.

"Never seen a horse that well trained." Porthos' voice was a murmur as he swung himself into the saddle.

"Especially not a chestnut mare." Athos could not hide the note of admiration in his voice. He had owned and ridden plenty of well trained horses before, however every chestnut mare he had ridden had been hot tempered and entirely uncooperative. Granted, his horse could be an absolute bastard at times but never quite so bad as a chestnut mare.

Porthos moved his horse alongside Eleanor's and grasped the rope; it had not taken any great length of discussion to decide that he should lead her. Athos' horse had about as much inclination as his rider for company and was not unknown to send well aimed kicks at other horses that invaded his personal space. They made their way towards Paris at a steady walk, and Athos could hear snatches of words from behind as Porthos made easy conversation with Eleanor. As her gentle laugh sounded, the elder musketeer found himself wondering how his friends all seemed to have the talent of being able to strike up conversation without any effort. He doubted that even had he been so inclined, he would ever find it that easy.

It was late in the afternoon when they rode into the garrison and Athos dismounted, tossing the reins of his horse to the stable boy before helping Eleanor from her mare. He had barely set her on her feet when he heard a familiar voice.

"I thought you'd never make it back, any longer and Treville would have sent us out after you." He turned to see d'Artagnan leaning against a pillar.

"Nice to see he misses us." Porthos swung himself from the saddle and clapped the boy on the shoulder.

"He's been twitchy all day." Aramis sauntered over, and fed the apple he was holding to Porthos' horse. He paused, taking in the girl stood before Athos and each of his three friends rolled their eyes as he looked at her.

"Well you had best inform him that we have arrived." Athos' voice was firm and his gaze hard with silent warning. Aramis took the hint and turned, making his way up the stairs to Treville's office.

Barely moments later, they heard hurried footsteps and Treville emerged onto the balcony and made his way down the stairs, his gaze fixed on the girl. When he stepped onto the courtyard he seemed almost hesitant as he moved towards her and took her hands in his own.

"It's good to see you again, Eleanor."

"And you, Father."

D'Artagnan blinked in surprise, not quite sure if had heard her words right. He looked at the others, seeing equal surprise on each of their faces, or as close to equal as was possible. Porthos was in danger of losing his eyebrows if they rose any further. Aramis had taken a step back, any thoughts he might have had about wooing this young woman quickly retreating and Athos had quirked an eyebrow.

Treville looked at Eleanor, brushing her hair back from her face and frowning when he noticed the small cut at the base of her throat. He glanced up at Athos and Porthos and nodded his gratitude before taking the girls' arm and guiding her up the stairs to his office. The musketeers watched as they disappeared and headed towards the table where Serge was laying out food and wine. Athos fell into step beside Porthos as they made their way across the courtyard.

"How did you realise so quickly?" Athos knew that he did not need to explain himself.

"Seen plenty like her in the Court; easy enough to recognise." His voice was quiet and Athos nodded, seeing the fleeting sadness that crossed the big man's' features.

"Come on, you two, or d'Artagnan will have eaten all the food." Aramis grinned as he called to them.

"Yes and Aramis will have drunk all the wine." D'Artagnan's retort was accompanied by a flying piece of bread aimed at Aramis' head.

"Well I s'pose that answers the question of who she is." Porthos grinned as he reached for a jug of wine.

"I never knew the Captain had a daughter." Aramis had picked up another apple.

"I would imagine it never came up in conversation." D'Artagnan had just about got over his shock.

"Yeah and if it had I bet he would never have told you." Porthos chuckled.

"It's true, she is very attractive."

"No!" Aramis almost fell off the bench as his three friends spoke in unison. He looked up to see Athos staring at him over the rim of his cup, his eyes hard and his face as unyielding as an avenging angel.

"Don't even think about it, Aramis."

"I won't."

"I mean it; she's not just another girl for you to seduce." He glared and Aramis held up his hands in surrender.

"You have my solemn vow, my friends that I will not go near her." He flashed them a smile and they all sighed.

They looked up as footsteps sounded above them and Treville emerged with Eleanor, one of her hands on his arm as they made their way down the stairs. He paused as he passed the table and fixed Athos and Porthos with a stare.

"I'll be back later; you two give me your report then." Athos nodded and Treville turned without another word, leading Eleanor from the garrison.

Treville led Eleanor through the streets of Paris, guiding her carefully through the crowds. They had not walked very far when they came to a modest house, not far away from the market. Stopping at the door, Treville pulled a key from his pocket and opened it, leading Eleanor inside.

The hallway was quiet and cool compared to the hot, noisy streets of Paris and Eleanor relished the sudden quiet as Treville closed the door. A moment later footsteps sounded and she heard a woman's voice.

"Monsieur Treville, at last, we were starting to worry. There is wine in the kitchen for you both."

"Thank you, Anna." Treville took Eleanor's arm and brought her forwards a step. "This is my daughter; Eleanor. Eleanor, this is Anna; she looks after the house and will be taking care of you."

"A pleasure to meet you, my dear, he has told me so much about you."

"Good things, I hope." Eleanor smiled.

"Always." Anna took one of Eleanor's hands in her own; her hands were firm and her touch caring. "Come, you must be tired from your journey." Treville smiled as she led Eleanor down the hall, Anna was of good solid country stock; she took no nonsense from anybody and he trusted her completely to take care of Eleanor. He followed them down the hall to the kitchen to find Eleanor sat at the table. Anna clucked her tongue at him as he entered.

"Sit, you must stay for a while." She set a glass of wine in front of him and bustled from the room.

"Anna is a good woman; she'll take good care of you." He settled himself into a chair and Eleanor smiled.

"I like her; she doesn't let you get away with anything I see."

"You're right there." He laughed and took a sip of the wine. "This house is yours to use. I never sleep here now so it will be good to have it lived in once more. I'll show it to you in a while; it's not big so you'll be able to learn it quickly." He paused, slightly awkward in her presence after so long. "The King wants to meet you." Her head lifted sharply.

"Why?" Her tone was guarded.

"He's...fascinated."

"Ah, he's never seen a blind woman up close and wants to gawp, is that it?" Her voice was harsh.

"He's also fascinated by the fact that I have a daughter."

"Many men have daughters."

"Yes but no one knew that I did." She nodded in a grudging understanding.

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Fine." Sensing that she was not pleased, Treville put his glass down and stood.

"Come on, I'll show you the house." He took her arm and led her through the house, walking slowly as her fingers trailed along the walls and she began to learn her way around.

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><p><strong>Well there we go, hope you liked it. Much love and imaginary cookies for reviews :-)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Well hello again. Many thanks (and the promised imaginary cookies) to obh614 and merick for the reviews.**

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><p>Aramis sat at the table, his head bent over the pistol he was polishing. He listened as Athos put d'Artagnan through his paces and smiled as he heard a thud followed by Porthos' laugh and an admonishment from Athos. He looked up as he heard heavy footsteps and instantly recognised the Captain's tread. Treville looked far more relaxed than he had previously in the day, some of the tension had gone from his shoulders but he still didn't look entirely happy.<p>

"Athos, Porthos, my office." His tone was one that his musketeers had learned not to disregard if they wished to continue breathing and the soldiers in question immediately ceased their activities and followed him up the stairs.

When they reached the office, Treville was pacing back and forth, not unlike an angry lion. They had barely closed the door behind them when he spoke.

"What happened?"

"We found Madame Ardoin and her companions being attacked on the road. By the time we got there, her companions were dead." Athos kept his report blunt and to the point.

"You killed the bandits?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What happened to Eleanor?"

"The last man alive held a knife to her throat."

"Alright, she said you conducted yourselves well; 'perfect gentlemen' she called you. Personally I think she's being generous to you ruffians but well done. She's not an easy woman to impress." The last vestiges of tension appeared to leave him and he sat down. "Tomorrow the King has asked to meet Eleanor, you two, along with Aramis and d'Artagnan are coming with us; the more people she has around her who she's met the happier she'll be." He nodded at them, effectively dismissing them and they filed from the office.

That night, the musketeers sat in the tavern, a large jug of wine on the table between them.

"She said you were what?" Aramis' eyes sparkled with laughter as he poured wine into his cup.

"Said we was perfect gentlemen."

"Porthos, my friend, she clearly is not well acquainted with you." Aramis laughed at the offended look on his friend's face.

"Either that or she's had a poor sampling of gentlemen." D'Artagnan ducked, not quite managing to avoid the cuff that Porthos aimed at his head.

"So what is she like?" Aramis caught the glances of his friends and held up his hands. "I'm merely curious as to what manner of woman the Captain has bred."

"She seems nice enough." Porthos grunted. "Got that horse of hers well trained."

"I wonder if she's inherited the Captain's temper." D'Artagnan poured more wine into his cup. "What do you think, Athos?" They looked at Athos who had not yet spoken a word.

"Not being well acquainted with her I wouldn't know, however if she is anything like him at all then I imagine it was unavoidable." He drained his glass and stood, bidding them goodnight before heading for home.

The next morning the musketeers gathered in the garrison and waited for Treville to assign the duties to the rest of the regiment. Eventually he was ready and they mounted their horses, Aramis leading Eleanor's mare as they made their way through the streets. It did not take long for Eleanor to appear at the door of the house and she greeted Porthos and Athos with a smile before being introduced to Aramis and d'Artagnan. Porthos grinned at the look of surprise on his brothers' faces as they watched Eleanor mount her horse.

It did not take them long to ride to the palace and Treville took his daughter's arm as they made their way through the corridors to the throne room. The King and Queen sat, watching as they approached. The Cardinal stood to one side and Treville groaned inwardly as he saw Rochefort leaning against one wall.

"Your majesties, may I present my daughter, Eleanor Ardoin." He led Eleanor to stand before the thrones and stepped away as she curtsied deeply.

"You are married, Eleanor? The King was grinning as he studied her face.

"Widowed, Majesty." Eleanor raised her head and gave a slight smile that did not reach her eyes. Athos watched as the King asked her more questions, grinning like a child with a new toy. Eleanor answered them, her tone civil but her manner ever so slightly aloof. He could tell that she was not happy to be here and he did not blame her. He was jerked from his observations as he heard the King make an exclamation of surprise.

"You dance, you say?"

"Yes, your Majesty, I enjoy dancing."

"How intriguing." The King grinned at the Cardinal as though sharing a private joke. "I am glad you came to visit us, we should hope to see you again sometime." Eleanor curtsied and Athos felt Treville nudge his arm.

"Take her home." Athos nodded once and stepped forwards, gently taking Eleanor's hand and placing it on his arm.

"Madame Ardoin, the Captain has asked me to take you home." She nodded and fell into step beside him as the King called Treville forwards. He moved quickly, leading her from the throne room, knowing that the King would begin to chatter about her and not wanting the barely controlled fire in her eyes to have any more fuel added to it. Once they had made their way into the corridor he spoke quietly.

"I will not insult you by asking if you are alright." The corner of her mouth twisted up in a humourless smile.

"It's nice to know that you at least have some sense." Athos gave a wry smile.

"I think the Captain might disagree."

"Yes, he has written to me of the antics of you and your friends." Her smile was genuine this time.

"Then I fear all hope is lost."

"Not quite." Her smile vanished as she felt him stop suddenly as footsteps sounded behind them.

"Your Eminence." Athos greeted Richelieu as he appeared behind them in the hallway and Eleanor could hear his guarded tone. The Cardinal smiled with all the sincerity of a snake as he approached them.

"I am surprised, Madame Ardoin that your father permits you to be escorted by lone musketeers." Eleanor felt Athos' muscles stiffen under her hand and smiled sweetly.

"I thank you for your concern, Cardinal. However, although I have only been acquainted with them a short while, in that time they have proven themselves to be perfect gentlemen, whereas others in higher position have yet to do so."

"A bold statement, Madame. I hope they continue to prove gentlemanly." Eleanor smiled at him once more, her eyes colder than a Paris winter and Athos watched as the Cardinal stalked off down the hall, waiting until he had gone before leading Eleanor onwards.

"Well that insult wasn't exactly veiled." He could not hide his amusement.

"It wasn't meant to be; he was rude and I don't like him."

"He didn't take kindly to it."

"I don't need to see him to know that; just as I don't need to see you to know that you're smirking." He could not deny it and she laughed softly as they left the palace.

The Cardinal fumed as he stalked through the palace, he stepped into the throne room just as the King dismissed Treville and the other musketeers with him; the other three of the four that had become such thorns in his side. He glowered at them as they walked past him, already plotting to humiliate the girl and them.

Treville sat at the table with Eleanor as Anna cleared away their plates. Their conversation had been sparse, but that was how they had always been. He watched as Eleanor ran her fingertips over the wooden table and finally asked her what he had been wondering since they had been at the palace.

"Did the Cardinal speak to you at the palace?"

"Yes, why?"

"That will be why he had a face like thunder when we left. What did you say to him?"

"He was rude to your musketeer, I merely corrected his statement." She was clearly unrepentant and Treville sighed.

"Be careful, Eleanor. He is spiteful and has a huge influence on the King; he will seek to humiliate you."

"So, it seems will the King." He saw her anger rising and placed a hand on her shoulder in an effort to quell the fire.

"I'm only asking you to take care; for my sanity as much as anything else."

"Alright." Her anger faded and she sat back in her chair.

"So what impression have my musketeers made on you that you feel the need to defend them against the Cardinal?"

"They've treated me well and kindly. I haven't yet seen any of the idiocy you wrote to me about."

"Give them time; you hardly know them."

"I've only really spoken to two of them."

"Athos and Porthos; what do you think of them?" He watched her face as she thought.

"Porthos is kind, he has a reassuring presence about him; my horse liked him which is surprising, she doesn't like many people."

"And Athos?" Eleanor took a breath before answering as though thinking carefully.

"He's noble, that much is evident in his manner. But there's something sad about him, like he's been hurt deeply."

"I'd forgotten just how well you can judge a man's character." He rose from his chair and kissed her cheek. "But now I must go, the King has asked to see me again this evening."

"Goodnight, Father."

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><p><strong>Well there we are, hope you liked. Much love :-)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Well here we are again. Thank you to merick, Twitch666, obh614, MorganOfTheFey and Tanjatailor for the reviews :-) Hope you like.**

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><p>When d'Artagnan reached the garrison the next morning, the first thing he saw was his three friends sat at the table, their attention fixed on the balcony outside Treville's office, Anna sat with them. He strolled over to join them and sat next to Porthos.<p>

"What's going on?"

"Captain asked to see his daughter this morning." Porthos looked vaguely amused.

"And whatever he's said to her hasn't gone down well." Aramis tilted his head and d'Artagnan looked up as he heard Eleanor's voice coming from the office. Although he couldn't hear the words her tone was unmistakably angry. He shuddered; she did not sound like a woman to cross, but then again, he mused, neither was any other woman of his acquaintance.

Treville watched as Eleanor paced back and forth across his office, her fingers trailing along the wall to guide her. Understandably she was furious; he hadn't been happy with the request when it had been made and had known that he would face a fight. Although he had not spent much time with his daughter through her life he knew her well enough to know that fighting fire with fire was not wise at this point. He watched as she prowled back and forth, waiting for her to speak. Eventually she did, not ceasing her pacing.

"I'm a woman, Father, not a performing monkey." She almost spat the words.

"I understand that you're angry; but he is the King, if we refuse him..."

"He'll what? Throw a tantrum?" Her hair flew as she spun.

"For want of a better phrase; yes. I'm sorry, Eleanor, I tried to dissuade him but once the Cardinal has put an idea in his head..." She stopped pacing, her jaw set as she seemed to consider his words. After a moment she took a deep breath and spoke again.

"Fine, I'll do it, if only to make your life a little easier." Treville breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

"I'll need someone I can trust, not a court fop or an idiotic oaf." He could hear the note of disdain in her voice.

"I'll find you someone."

"One of your musketeers?" Her tone had a mocking note to it, but then again, it often did when she was angry.

"I have one in mind."

"Fine." She was still not happy but she had conceded which was the best he could hope for. He looked at her as he moved towards the door; she was glorious when she was angry, all fire and fury and a bearing worthy of royalty, just like her mother. He sighed and opened the door, preparing himself for the next fight.

"Athos." The musketeer in question glanced up, fixing Treville with a steady gaze. His face betrayed nothing as he rose from the bench and made his way up the stairs, ignoring the barely controlled laughter of his friends and a barely concealed comment from Aramis about "Heading into the lion's den."

When Athos entered the office Treville had moved to stand behind his desk, leaning his hands on it, tension showing visibly in his shoulders and arms. Eleanor stood by the wall, her face stony and her eyes hard. Athos was certain that he'd seen softer looking statues. Unable to guess what had passed between father and daughter, Athos stood straight, his hat in his hands and waited for his Captain to speak.

"Athos, the King has asked to see Eleanor dance, apparently he finds it highly fascinating that she can and wants to watch. There is a ball in three weeks time; he wants her to dance there." He paused, watching his best soldier. "The only thing is; she needs someone to dance with who can be trusted."

"Sir, I..." Athos trailed off, taken aback. He was prepared for his Captain to ask almost anything of him but this was both unexpected and unwelcome. "I left that life behind me a long time ago."

"And I am asking you to revisit it for a few moments for the sake of my daughter and my sanity." Treville was clearly unhappy and his resignation showed in his voice. "She needs someone who can be trusted to lead her through a dance properly and not leave her looking like a fool for the Cardinal to laugh at."

"Do not think that you are the only one who is unhappy with this, Monsieur." Eleanor's voice cut through the air like a blade. "I have no desire to indulge the King in a childish whim but it seems I must." She moved across the room, her fingers finding the desk just before she reached it.

"Will you do it?" Athos glanced at Treville, surprised that his Captain had asked rather than ordered.

"Yes, Sir." He watched as Treville's shoulders sagged in relief.

"Thank you; I'll put you on light duties for the next week, give you plenty of time to practice." They both turned as Eleanor made a noise somewhat resembling a growl and turned, stalking across the room and finding the door with surprising ease. Treville closed his eyes as she wrenched it open and then slammed it shut behind her. They heard her speaking to Anna and the voices of the two women fading as they left the garrison. Treville sighed before looking back at Athos. "She's understandably unhappy, being used for the King's amusement is not appealing to her."

"Nor I, Sir."

"I know, but you are the only one I could trust for this; although most of our regiment is made up of minor nobility who all had dancing masters I don't think any of them could handle her when she's in a rage, she'd tear them to pieces." He sat down and rubbed his eyes.

"Her anger is justified, Sir. She may be blind, but that does not make her a source for amusement." Treville looked up at him, something akin to surprise on his face.

"You never know, with that sentiment you may just get through to her. She'll calm down in a few hours, go over to the house this evening and see if she'll practice with you. She loves to dance so with any luck her enjoyment may just overtake her rage."

It was with slight trepidation that Athos knocked on the door of Treville's house. He was uncertain of the reception that he would get and God help him if she was still in a rage. He did not have Aramis' easy way with words, nor Porthos' shy charm. In fact he had not really conversed properly with a woman since Ninon. Although he had not spoken to Eleanor much he could already tell that she was as unlike Ninon as fire was to ice. They shared the same strong will, but where Ninon was cool and regal in her manner, her fine breeding apparent in every word and gesture, Eleanor was fiery, her rage untempered.

He remembered something his father had once told him. "_Beware red headed women, my boy. No matter how calm they seem there is always fire running through their blood. The Lord was kind enough to show it in their hair by way of a warning."_

"Damned chestnut mares." He muttered under his breath, sighing as he waited. Eventually he heard footsteps and he tipped his hat as Anna opened the door.

"Good evening, Madame; is Madame Ardoin home?" The woman looked at him shrewdly, her face crinkling in a knowing smile.

"You mean has she calmed down and will she dance with you aye? Well you'd better come in."

"Is she..?" He trailed off, uncertain of how to phrase it and Anna chuckled.

"Calm? Yes. Happy? No. But she will do as her father has asked." She turned and bustled down the hall, beckoning him to follow her. She led him through the house to the dining room and left him there. The room was large and the table had been pushed against one wall, leaving the floor clear.

Athos had only been waiting a few moments when he heard soft footsteps. He turned as Eleanor entered the room and quickly reviewed his previous opinion. As she stepped into the room, her bearing was as regal as any Queen. The candle light shone softly on her fiery hair and illuminated her marble skin. He was relieved to see that her expression had softened a little to neutral as opposed to that of a fury.

"Madame Ardoin." He removed his hat and her head turned towards him as he spoke.

"Monsieur." Her tone was civil if not overly welcoming. "We cleared the room; I hope it will serve."

"It will."

"I suppose we had best begin then." Her resigned tone saddened him and he had stepped forwards before he knew it.

"Madame, I would like you to know that, although I have been ordered to do this, I do not, in any way believe that the King is right to ask this of you." A brief look of surprise crossed her face before she spoke.

"You will still do it though." Her tone was still resigned.

"Only at the request of the Captain; I cannot refuse him." She smiled sadly and nodded.

"Nor I."

"Then let us begin."

It did not take Athos long to work out that this was not like any dancing he had ever taken part in. Eleanor needed to be carefully guided in regards to where he stood. Movements, steps and turns had to be precise so as not to disorient her. Thankfully and somewhat surprisingly; she proved to be a patient teacher, carefully helping him to both remember what he had almost forgotten and to learn new things.

As Treville had predicted it did not take long for her natural enjoyment to show and when Athos lifted her for the first time she smiled so brightly that he could only liken it to the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm.

The night had grown dark by the time Athos made his way to the tavern and wove his way through the crowd to the table where his friends were sat. They had seen him coming and as he sat down Porthos pushed a glass of wine towards him.

"So how was Madame Ardoin?" Aramis smirked as he spoke, ignoring the glare that Athos shot him.

"Well she must have calmed down." Porthos chuckled and took a gulp of his wine.

"What do you mean by that?" At Athos' tone, Porthos choked and had the grace to look repentant.

"Well you're still in one piece."

"I think they mean she's hot tempered." D'Artagnan interjected helpfully and Athos thought for a moment before nodding.

"Well I suppose she is red headed."

"Ah now that my friend is where you have missed something." Aramis grinned as three pairs of eyes turned to him.

"Aye?" Porthos furrowed his brow in confusion.

"She is not just a red head."

"Explain." Athos was growing bored.

"One." Aramis held up a finger. "She is a woman."

"Well we'd figured that out." Porthos raised an eyebrow and Aramis glared before continuing.

"They are tricky creatures at best. Two; as previously stated, she is a red head and they are notoriously difficult to handle, much like bombs with five second fuses."

"Anything else?" Athos drained his glass and reached for the bottle.

"Finally and most importantly she is from Gascony and therefore has a temper shorter than courtesans' skirts."

"Hey." They laughed at d'Artagnan's indignation and Porthos clapped the boy on the shoulder.

"You can't deny it, boy."

"No I can't which is why Athos had better watch out next time she's in a temper; she might yet tear him apart." They laughed as Athos sighed and drunk his wine, wondering what he had ever done to be stuck with such idiots.

Over the next three weeks Athos returned to the house each evening. With each visit Eleanor greeted him a little more warmly. By the end of the first week her face was no longer stony when he arrived. During the second week he was shocked when she greeted him with a warm smile. They would practice all evening, her hands feather light on his as they moved back and forth across the room. She grew to trust him, allowing her to guide her through the steps of the dance without hesitation and she no longer tensed when he placed his hands on her waist to lift her. During each practice, Anna would bring them wine. Initially they would drink without speaking, the silences cold and awkward, but over the weeks, Eleanor warmed to him and would even strike up the occasional conversation. After each practice session Athos would join his brothers in the tavern and ignore their good natured comments about playing with fire.

They had two days until the ball and the night was warm, Athos was in his shirt sleeves having long since discarded his leather jerkin. Their dancing had increased in speed; the fast turns and lifts leaving them both breathing hard. They were relieved when Anna brought them wine and they stood, drinking it in a not uncomfortable silence. After a few moments Eleanor put her glass down and spoke hesitantly.

"Monsieur, would you permit me to see you?" Athos frowned at her; confused.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I would like to know what the man I am dancing with looks like; but to know that I would need to touch you and I have found that it is better to ask first." Her voice was soft and she had a slight nervousness about her, as though fearful that her request might be refused. Athos could not prevent a small smile.

"I would be no gentleman at all if I were to refuse a lady such a request." She smiled and he put his glass down, unsure what to expect as she reached out a hand.

The tips of her fingers brushed the back of his hand briefly then travelled up his arm, tickling his skin through his shirt. He stayed perfectly still as her fingers slipped over the lace of his shirt collar and traced over the skin of his neck, pausing for a moment over his pulse. Slowly Eleanor stepped towards him, reducing the distance so that her body almost touched his and Athos could feel her breath through the open neck of his shirt. She raised her other hand and he felt her run her light touch over the line of his jaw. Her hands slipped up into his hair, and he felt her comb her fingers through it. Carefully, slowly she traced her way down his face, her lips parted in concentration as she built an idea in her mind of what he looked like. One hand brushed softly across his cheek and he had to stop himself twitching as she ran a finger down his nose. Slowly she ran her thumb over his lips, gently tracing the faint scar and Athos swallowed, fighting to stay still under her touch. After a few more moments she pulled her hands away and smiled. For a moment Athos could still feel her touch on his skin and shook himself.

"Thank you, Monsieur. Now I have an idea of what you look like."

"Then I apologise, for there are many with more pleasing features than I."

"Then you have a very low opinion of yourself for I would not have said that." She tilted her head and one corner of her mouth tilted up in a crooked smile.

"You are being kind I think, Madame."

"Please, call me Eleanor."

"As you wish." She smiled and they finished the wine before continuing their dancing.

Neither of them noticed Anna as she watched from the hallway.

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><p><strong>Well there we go, hope you like. Much love and imaginary cookies for reviews :-)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Well here we are then, another chapter. Many thanks to Merick for the wonderful review and to 'guest' for the very enthusiastic request to update.**

**Hope you like.**

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><p>The day before the ball Treville listened as the King demanded the highest level of security to ensure the safety of his guests. He watched the bright sunlight dance across the floor, thinking black clouds would have been better suited to his mood. He roused himself, suddenly aware that Louis was awaiting a response.<p>

"I assure you, Sire, the musketeers will be both inside and outside the palace; they will guard against anything that might come." He suppressed a sigh of exasperation; the King was the same before every ball and function.

"I do hope so, Treville. I don't want anything to spoil this ball; could you imagine how annoying it would be if we didn't get to watch your daughter dance; I am quite looking forward to it as the highlight of my evening."

"She is looking forward to dancing for the King I presume." The Cardinal's silky tone grated on Treville like sand in a wound and he resisted the urge to punch the man.

"She is ready to do as she has been asked." He bowed as the King dismissed him, trying desperately not to grit his teeth too visibly or look at the smirking face of the Cardinal as he turned away and headed down the corridor.

"Captain Treville." A voice sounded behind him and he turned, surprised to see the Queen standing behind him.

"Your Majesty." He bowed low, unsure as to what she might want.

"Your daughter will need a dress for the ball. One of my ladies has the perfect one that she can borrow."

"My thanks, Majesty." Treville did not know what else to say; he had always known the Queen to be a gentle, kind soul, but this act of generosity was unlooked for and unexpected. The Queen stepped forwards and placed a slim hand gently on his arm.

"I wish I could have stopped this ordeal for her and for you."

"Once the King had the idea there was no stopping him."

"The Cardinal more likely than the King I think." The dislike in her voice was not quite concealed.

"I think she'll do fine."

"I hope so. I will arrange for the dress to be sent." He bowed low and she turned away, leaving him marvelling at her kindness.

Constance carefully adjusted the corset on the dress that the Queen had leant Eleanor. The girl stood quietly, allowing her to do what was required. Isabelle, one of the other ladies had not been pleased at being told to lend the dress out but as Constance looked at the girl in front of her, she thought that the dress was far more suited to its current wearer.

"The Queen wishes that you didn't have to do this, she said she would have stopped it if she was able."

"She is kindness itself." Eleanor's voice was quiet.

"There, all done." Constance finished tying the last ribbon and stepped back to admire her handiwork. "If it helps at all, you look beautiful." She was rewarded with a smile and pitied the girl in front of her.

Athos followed the Captain as they made their way to collect Eleanor for the ball. Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan were already at the palace with the rest of the regiment, guarding against any danger to the King and Queen or their guests.

Anna opened the door and they followed her to the dining room which was empty.

"Is she ready?" Treville gazed steadily at the woman and she raised an eyebrow at him before clucking her tongue.

"She will be, you wait here, and I'll go and see." She levelled her gaze at them, daring them to contradict her and nodded approvingly when they took of their hats and stood quietly. Treville smiled and shook his head as she bustled off.

"Best do as we're told." He placed his hat on the table, leaning back in the chair. "I always forget how long it takes for a woman to get ready."

"I believe it is their prerogative, Sir." Treville gave a snort of laughter and Athos sat down, preparing himself to wait.

They heard footsteps and stood as Anna entered, leading Eleanor behind her. As she stepped into the room Athos caught his breath. The dress the Queen had leant her was finely cut, her already slender waist pulled in by the bodice and wide silk skirts that flowed and rippled as she moved. The emerald green fabric contrasted perfectly with her fair skin and red hair and delicate silver embroidery caught the candlelight. Anna had brushed her hair until it shone and pinned it up, leaving loose curls tumbling around her face.

Treville stepped forwards to greet his daughter and Anna stepped away, moving across the room. It was only when she dug her elbow into his ribs that Athos realised his mouth was open. Promptly he shut it before Treville could see and tried his hardest to ignore Anna's grin.

They made their way to the palace, joining the throngs of lords, ladies and courtiers already there. In the bright, noisy ballroom Athos saw his friends on guard, already standing at the edges of the crowd, their sharp eyes watching for anything amiss. Treville was beckoned over by the King and touched Eleanor on the shoulder, excusing himself and leaving her in Athos' care.

"Can I interest you in a glass of wine?" Athos spoke quietly to her.

"You can indeed." She sounded relieved and he quickly fetched two glasses, carefully placing one in her hand.

They moved through the room, her hand resting lightly on his arm. As they moved, Athos saw mens' eyes following Eleanor; he could not blame them, for tonight she was especially beautiful. It did not take long for people to approach them; curious about the girl they had never seen at court who was escorted by a musketeer. On the most part they were fascinated, much like the King and gathered around the pair. Eleanor smiled and conversed politely, betraying nothing; but every once in a while Athos felt her grip on his arm tighten.

Treville saw the Queen beckon him over and moved to stand beside her. She glanced at him briefly before turning her gaze back to the crowds in the room.

"Your daughter looks beautiful tonight, Captain."

"That is thanks in part to your generosity, your Majesty."

"The dress suits her." Anne watched as the girl conversed quietly with Athos.

"I'm sure she would like the opportunity to thank you herself."

"Yes I would very much like to talk with her." They turned as the King stood and the room fell silent.

"My dear guests, tonight we have something wonderful to see; the blind daughter of Captain Treville will dance with Athos the musketeer." He grinned, clapping his hands and the hall was filled with applause as the floor was cleared. Louis gestured at Athos and all eyes turned to them as he led Eleanor to the middle of the floor. A moment later the musicians began to play.

Aramis watched as Eleanor curtsied to Athos and he bowed before taking her by the hand. As they moved across the floor, their feet light, Aramis noted how Athos almost never broke contact with Eleanor, even if just their fingertips were touching. He watched as Athos stepped back and Eleanor spun gracefully, her skirts flying in waves of green, Athos caught her hand as she stopped and a sound of exclamation echoed through the hall as Athos put his hands on her waist and lifted her high before setting her gently on her feet. They continued to dance, enthralling everyone as they moved together. By the time Eleanor curtsied to Athos once more and he bowed in return, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted, whether from exertion or something else, Aramis was not certain.

Athos turned to face the thrones, his gentle touch guiding Eleanor. He bowed and Eleanor sank into a low curtsey. The King burst into gleeful applause, closely followed by the rest of the hall. Treville did not miss that the Cardinal barely touched his hands together.

"I never knew he could be so graceful." Porthos sounded amazed.

"Me neither." Aramis watched as his friend led Eleanor away from the floor. "But I suppose you don't wield a sword like he does without at least a measure of grace."

"Fair point." They watched as courtiers crowded Athos and Eleanor once more and Aramis saw Treville watching them also.

Treville watched as Athos and Eleanor stood in the centre of a crowd of chattering guests. He studied the pair carefully. They each showed an outward countenance that was calm and polite, yet he could see signs that he recognised in each of them as warnings. There was a set to Athos' shoulders that only appeared when he was exercising more iron self control than normal and Eleanor's polite smiles did not reach her eyes. Quickly he slipped through the crowds until he reached them and addressed the courtiers that surrounded them.

"You will have to forgive them; the Queen has asked to speak to them." Ignoring the disappointed looks, Treville turned away and Athos and Eleanor followed close behind.

"Did she really, Father?" Eleanor was relieved but there was also a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Well she didn't ask to see you at this exact moment in time but I'm sure she won't mind." It pleased him to see her smile and he took her arm as they approached the thrones. They stopped just in front of the Queen and at a gentle squeeze of Treville's hand, Eleanor sunk into a deep curtsey.

"The dress looks well on you, Eleanor."

"My thanks for your kindness in lending it, Majesty."

"I enjoyed that immensely." The King was grinning inanely. "Who would have thought that a soldiers' daughter could be so graceful, don't you think Cardinal?"

"Indeed, Madame Ardoin was very...elegant." The Cardinal's pause was exquisitely timed and he smiled coldly. Athos bristled internally at the insult and saw Treville's jaw clench.

"Indeed she was, wasn't she?" The king grinned, missing the Cardinal's insult. Athos glanced at Eleanor and saw her smile sweetly.

"Indeed I find that being able to dance elegantly can lend one an elegance of character; perhaps his eminence should try it." The King grinned and Athos tried not to smirk as the Cardinal bristled.

"Well she has the measure of you, Armand. Enjoy the rest of the ball, Madame Ardoin." He waved his hand, dismissing them and Treville took Eleanor's hand, leading her away from the thrones.

As they moved back across the room, Treville turned to Athos. "If you'll excuse us for a moment, Athos; I need a moment with my daughter." His tone was calm but there was an underlying tension that brooked no argument. Athos inclined his head and moved swiftly back to where he could see Aramis and Porthos at the edge of the room. His friends greeted him with smiles and Porthos clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Once again my friend, you astound us all." Aramis' tone was one of quiet admiration.

"I merely did as I was ordered" Athos face was expressionless, his eyes fixed on where Treville and Eleanor stood.

"Well it made the evening more interesting, if nothing else we got to see her put the Cardinal in his place." Porthos could barely suppress a grin; he glanced at Aramis, rolling his eyes as he followed his friend's gaze towards the almost indecently low neckline of a passing duchess.

Treville led Eleanor through the crowd, guiding her away from curious nobles. Finally he spoke, his voice low and furious.

"I told you not to antagonise him" He nodded at a passing guest, fighting to keep his fury from his face.

"I don't care if he is the most powerful man in France; I will not stand and smile sweetly while he insults me for his own amusement." Although her face was neutral, her eyes were hard. She abruptly fell silent as Treville squeezed her hand in warning.

"Captain Treville, what a pleasure." The voice Eleanor heard was a silky drawl, the tone polite but the underlying disdain clear.

"Rochefort." Treville's reply was clipped and barely civil, he looked away for just a second, flicking his gaze towards where Athos, Porthos and Aramis stood.

"An enchanting dance, Madame." His cold eyes roved over Eleanor, assessing and calculating. Eleanor inclined her head gracefully as though in thanks but kept her expression carefully neutral; she had heard the distaste in her fathers' voice and there was something about Rochefort's tone that set her on edge.

Before Rochefort could say anything else Athos appeared, summoned by Treville's glance. He swept his gaze over Rochefort, allowing his nobility to show through for just a moment. At a nod from Treville he reached out, placing a gentle hand on Eleanor's arm and guiding her away. She went willingly, recognising his touch and taking comfort in it.

It was late after the ball had finished and the guests had left or retired to their rooms but a light still burned in the Cardinals' office. He sat at his desk, resting his chin on steepled fingers as he regarded Rochefort carefully.

"You're sure it was about her?"

"Her name is throughout Paris and she's easy to find; there can be no mistake."

"For your sake I hope so. Do not be so rash as to assume there is no room for mistakes." The Cardinal fixed Rochefort with a stare that gave the clear message that mistakes would not be tolerated.

"What would you like to do?" Rochefort folded his arms and leant against the wall, watching as the Cardinal rose, moving across the room to the window.

"Captain Treville clearly loves his daughter." the Cardinal gazed out of the window, his expression thoughtful.

"It would appear so." It was not a concept Rochefort had any interest in at all. He had three bastard children in France that he knew about and had not a shred of care for any of them.

"I would imagine that if anything were to happen to her then it would break him."

"Leaving you as sole influence."

"Precisely." The Cardinal turned, a cold smile on his face. "Do nothing; if this happens it will work in our favour but I will not dirty my hands with it." He turned, waving a hand to dismiss Rochefort and sweeping from the room.

Rochefort thought about the girl as he made his way back to his rooms, she had been distant and aloof, barely speaking a single word to him. He despised Treville and his musketeers and this girl was no better, a true daughter of Treville. For all that though, she was beautiful with skin like cream and hair like fire. He imagined for a moment what it would be like to break her fiery spirit and bend her to his will. He closed his hand, wondering how it would feel to close his fingers around her throat and watch the distress in her blind eyes as he crushed her slender neck. A small smile formed on his face as he thought about it, yes he would enjoy that very much.

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><p><strong>Well there we go, hope you enjoyed it. Reviews much appreciated :-)<strong>


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